


Fifty Points to Who?

by matchst_ck



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheesy Harry Potter Innuendos, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Mickey Milkovich, Fluff, Harry Potter References, Hogwarts House Sorting, Love, M/M, One Shot, They're just happy beans in love as they should be, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, seriously it's all just light and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 21:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11700123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchst_ck/pseuds/matchst_ck
Summary: “Please Mick, please. C’mon we could be housemates! Better yet we could be roommates and we could spell the curtains on our bed shut and make out.” Ian wiggles his eyebrows at him and Mickey can’t help but crack a smile.“Fuck that, if we’re making the effort to spell the curtains shut we’re full on fucking.”---Ian manages to convince anot really thoughreluctant Mickey to take the Pottermore Sorting Hat Quiz. No Imperius curses were abused during the course of events.





	Fifty Points to Who?

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea has been flitting around my brain for a while. I'm almost at the end of another Harry Potter reread and I needed something to distract me from the other story I'm writing (which is going okay, managed 2k more words of it today) and so this was born. I tried to find the accurate questions from the Pottermore quiz (as I cannot remember them at all from when I was sorted) and I haven't included all of them, because that just seemed a bit much. It's meant to be lighthearted and hopefully a little bit funny and not really at all too serious, which is nice sometimes. So anyway, enjoy!

“Gryffindor? I knew it!” Ian squeals at the screen, fist pumping the air. 

“Fuck are you screaming for gingerbread, you’re gonna wake the cat.” Mickey scoots his hand under the sleeping feline, putting him onto a comfier couch cushion as he takes the now vacated dining chair next to Ian.

“Gryffindor, my Hogwarts house. I’ve been sorted into Gryffindor!” Ian grins as Mickey’s eyebrows raise to his hairline. “Brave, chivalrous, daring. I knew it.”

“Nerdy, is that one too? Cause you’re that, you fucking dork.” Mickey tries wandering away grumbling something about _Harry fucking Potter_ and _I’ve been sorted. I’ll fucking sort you out,_ but he doesn’t get much further past Ian when his wrist is grabbed and he’s dragged back to sit in Ian’s lap. “The fuck man, almost spilt my coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah princess wouldn’t want you to dirty your--” Ian looks over Mickey’s shoulder “knock off Adidas sweatpants. What a travesty.”

“Eh, you bought me these and they’re not Adidas, they’re Nikes dumbass.” Mickey sips his coffee, triumphant.

“Whatever, c’mon Mick--” Ian leans around his love, clicking away at the age old laptop. The fan is making so much noise Ian’s scared it’s going to give up the ghost soon, but its lasted them this long. “Here, I’ve logged you in and made you a profile. I wanna see what house you get sorted into!”

Mickey, for all that he is and isn’t, has never professed to be a Potter fan. Ian knows this, but still Ian persists. It’s one of his better qualities. 

“I’m sorry Ian I don’t think I heard you correctly, you should get some sleep you’re not thinking right sweetheart.” Mickey’s nose wrinkles at the mere idea of taking part (not at all that he’s secretly worried he’ll be sorted into Slytherin because as Hagrid knows, ‘there's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin’. So sue him, he likes the movies. And he might have sneaked a chapter or fifty of the books when Ian wasn’t looking.)

“Please Mick, please. C’mon we could be housemates! Better yet we could be roommates and we could spell the curtains on our bed shut and make out.” Ian wiggles his eyebrows at him and Mickey can’t help but crack a smile.

“Fuck that, if we’re making the effort to spell the curtains shut we’re full on fucking.” Muffliato, he almost shouts (because Mickey’s not exactly an exhibitionist, no one needs to hear the height of their passion), but manages to refrain. Doesn’t want to give the game away too early. “C’mon then, shift your ass. If I’m doing this thing I need room to concentrate.”

“Really?” Ian looks at him incredulously before he flies out of the seat, tucking Mickey in comfortably as he tugs the mug out of his hand. “I’ll get you a refill, replenish your energy.”

“Well, you’re the loser that’s going to have to put up with me when I can’t sleep tonight. Go ahead.” Mickey grins, cracking his knuckles as he gets down to the questions.

_What would you want to be remembered as?_

“Easy! Great. I’m super great. Next.”

_What would you not want to be remembered as?_

“Cowardly man, I aint no coward.”

“Came out in front of a whole bar of Southsiders and his homophobic asshole of a dad, least cowardly guy I know Mick.” Ian presses a kiss to Mickey’s head as he waits for the coffee to percolate, leaning on the back of the chair to watch.

_If you were to choose a potion what would you choose?_

“Hmm.” Mickey deliberates, hovering over the options. “Wisdom. Could do with some more of that.”

“Wise old owl Mickey.”

Mickey punches him lightly for good measure.

_How would you want people to remember you?_

He clicks ‘miss you and smile’ and then looks at Ian upside down.

“Miss you and cry more like it. But there’ll be no chance of that, we’re going together or not at all Mick.” Kisses him for good measure. 

_What scent brings you comfort?_

Mickey reaches up immediately, pulls Ian down gently by the neck. He presses his nose into the curve of Ian’s neck and sniffs deeply. 

“Smells like home to me.” Click.

Ian wanders away, pouring Mickey’s coffee and slipping some bread in the toaster. Figures he may as well feed Mickey if he’s forcing him to do this. He can hear Mickey grumbling away behind him, snorts of laughter following some of the questions and Ian can’t help but smile.

“How’s it going Mick?” He enquires, flicking the toast onto a plate to liberally apply butter.

“Piece of cake, some of these questions are fucking weird though. Why they gotta know what object I’d be attracted to in a whimsical garden? I had to google whimsical.”

Ian grins but to be fair, he’s not sure what it means either.

Coffee brewed and toast made, he heads back to the table and drops his goods next to Mickey. “Eat while it’s hot or you’ll miss all the dribbly buttery goodness.”

“Can’t eat, concentrating.” Mickey doesn’t look away from the laptop so Ian forces a piece of toast into his mouth until he bites and chews.

Mickey’s biting his thumbnail on one of the questions so Ian leans around to have a look.

_Which would you most want to be?_

Mickey’s hovering over the word ‘liked’.

“That’s not a bad thing Mickey. It’s nice to be liked.” Ian whispers.

“You’d know.” He responds and it’s a touch cold but Ian sees him click so he says no more.

_Which power do you wish you had?_

Mickey clicks with no hesitation on changing the past. Ian reaches a hand out, laces fingers with Mickey who squeezes back without hesitation. 

“Some fucked up shit back there huh tough guy?” 

“We’re here now. I’m happy.”

Mickey smiles and all is well. “Me too. Now get your butter fingers off me so I can finish this thing, it’s a million questions long.”

Mickey starts whizzing through the questions and Ian gets snippets of information as he goes. _‘Werewolves are fucking cool man’, ‘Moon or stars? Stars man, remember that time with the blanket? That was crazy good’._

“Oh wait, I think I’ve finished. It’s thinking about it.” They both wait, laptop whirring away and Mickey hopes it doesn’t die before he gets his house because he doesn’t want to do this all over again. 

Ian’s gathering the plates when he looks up to find Mickey staring wide eyed at the screen. He heads back, worried. 

“What, you in Slytherin? You know not everyone sorted into Slytherin turns out bad. Slughorn was in Slytherin and he… well, okay so he gave Tom Riddle the information he needed to--” Ian’s cut off when Mickey turns the laptop around and he sees the crest of Gryffindor fill the screen.

“Yes! This is fantastic, of course you’d be sorted into Gryffindor! You’re the bravest and most courageous man I know Mickey.”

Mickey proceeds to get smothered with a lap and face full of Ian Gallagher and struggles to breathe for a second but thinks this would be a beautiful way to go if he were to happen to expire here and now. 

Ian pulls back, face pink and happy.

“You know what this means?” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows in that way that he thinks is seductive but it’s not. It’s just cute. “Roomies!” He sings songs and Mickey can’t help but laugh. He lifts a hand and waves it like he’s holding an imaginary wand.

“Muffliato!”

“The fuck Mick? You holding out on me! You love Harry Potter, oh my God I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me all these years.” Ian squeals. “C’mon, let’s Slytherin to bed.”

“Fuck sakes Ian. There’s something siriusly ron with you!”

“Do you play Quidditch professionally?” Ian snorts, barely keeping it together. “Because I think you’re a keeper.”

“No, nope, that’s it.” Mickey shakes his head. “I’ve officially hitched my star to a Potter nerd’s wagon. It’s a good job I a-dumble-dore you Gallagher.”

“This is getting riddikulus, take me to bed and show me your wand Mickey.”

Mickey stands with a tall, octopus like Ian wrapped around his middle, a difficult thing when laughing so hard you’re snorting, and starts heading for the bedroom. 

“House cup to Gryffindor!”

**Author's Note:**

> I flail on tumblr. Come flail with me :) [@matchst-ck](https://matchst-ck.tumblr.com/)


End file.
